Whistle And I'll Come To You
by Lazarus76
Summary: Falling in love is not easy. Especially when its with the wrong person. A/E, A/A. One shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Ariadne turned over in bed, waiting. Arthur, she knew, was in the bathroom, getting ready. She smiled to herself. A man who was so well-groomed and took such good care of himself never failed to boost her self-esteem. He wandered out of the small room, and smiling, lifted up the covers, sliding in.

She curled against him as his lean body hit the sheets. "You ok?" she whispered.

"Fine." He turned his head, looking slightly puzzled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well..." she faltered, unsure of how to express her words. "You've seemes so tense lately."

Arthur swallowed, and began to stroke her arm. "Its just this job we're working on. The mark is the head of a major computer corporation, and in the public eye. We've got to be careful."

"Yes, well-" she stopped. There was more than that. A peculiarly sour atmosphere was pervading the team, making a previously friendly group of people tense, and almost hostile. She turned to him again.

"There's something else." She spoke softly, hoping it would not sound accusatory. "You don't seem to be getting on with...Eames."

Arthur fell silent. "Arthur?" she prodded. He turned his head, his expression irritated.

"I've never got on with Eames. Lord knows why Cobb keeps on bringing him back in the team." The Point Man's voice was so sour Ariadne almost flinched. "He interferes, he screws things up." He shook his head. "If it was up to me..."

Ariadne laid a placating hand on his arm. "Well, it isn't," she said, softly. She kissed him gently, and he turned his face to hers, reciprocating. As he did so, he tried to block the unpleasant little thoughts that kept niggling him, nibbling away at his psyche like hungry fish.

How could he tell her that his irritation with Eames, was due to his almost morbid fascination with the man? Or how, earlier that week, he'd had an encounter with the Forger that had thrilled and horrified him. They'd been in the Warehouse. Alone.

"Busy?"

Arthur had almost jumped, neatly stacking files to load into the filing cabinet. He'd turned - the Forger was standing in the doorway. "Thought you'd disappeared."

"I never disappear. I only linger." Eames' eyes had swept over the younger man, an intense, flattering gaze. Arthur had tried to ignore it, but he couldn't stop his hand from its slight shaking.

"Are you allright?" With quick strides, the Forger's hand was covering his. "You shouldn't be shaking like that, its not nat-"

Eames' voice disappeared as Arthur's lips met his. Without even attempting to break the sudden embrace, the older man wrapped his arms around him, they began to fall. Arthur, realising what was happening, froze - then relaxed.

_I want this. _

Eames wrapped his arms around him more tightly, then twisted, so the younger man was beneath him. He began to straddle, and started to unbutton Arthur's shirt. As the cool air began to hit the newly exposed skin, the Point Man blinked in shock.

"Eames," he said, softly.

The Forger's head was almost on his chest. "Eames!" Arthur said, loudly. The older man looked up, blinking in shock.

"What?" he demanded.

Arthur shook his head. "We can't do this. I'm sorry. I have a girlfriend...remember?"

Eames swallowed, and stared at him. "Oh, yes. And you're so devoted to her that you just threw yourself at me." He began to get up, buttoning his shirt with fingers that were suddenly clumsy. "Don't start squealing like a Victorian Virgin, Arthur- it really doesn't suit you."

Arthur blushed, furious with himself. "I love Ariadne. Forget this ever happened."

"You love her." Eames' tone was suddenly serious. "But you're not in love with her."

Arthur paused, his throat constricting. "She's everything I could want. Funny, clever, beautiful..."

"But she's not me." Eames looked at him, shaking his head. "Sorry, Arthur. You can keep repeating it to yourself, but everytime you're with her, I'm sure you think of me."

He turned, and began to leave. Arthur, stunned, watched him go.

"Arthur?"

He shook his head, trying to pull himself out of his memories. Ariadne was curling up next to him, the warmth of her body pleasant on his skin. He smiled, trying to ignore the tightening in his throat. As he pulled her close, and felt her head rest on his chest, he exhaled deeply, trying to stifle the feeling of regret and self-loathing exploding within his chest.

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur entered the warehouse, feeling exhausted. He'd barely slept, and his head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton wool.

_Coffee. Must have coffee. _

As he turned into the main office, he suddenly felt numb with shock. Eames was already sitting at his desk, idly leaning back. An elastic band was being casually twirled around his fingers.

The Point Man swallowed. "Morning."

Eames nodded. "Morning."

Arthur blinked. Unable to think of anything constructive to say, he moved silently towards his desk, focusing on opening his laptop, sitting down, and concentrating. He clicked a few keys, waiting for the files he needed to open.

"You look tired."

Arthur turned. Eames was looking at him, almost sympathetically. "You do, Arthur."

The younger man swallowed. "Well, this is a tough job we need to pull off. Major CEO, its a lot of pressure-"

"You're not worried about that," the Forger interrupted. "We've done worse jobs." He relaxed. "The Fischer job, for example."

Arthur gritted his teeth, his irritation becoming unbearable. "I know. Look, bad night, ok? Probably too much caffeine."

Eames shrugged. "As long as that's all it is."

Arthur glared at him, his patience near snapping point. "Meaning?"

"Meaning lying in bed each night, with someone whom you know you're deceiving must be stressful."

The Point Man shook his head, trying to clear it. This was pointless. He'd only been in the warehouse five minutes, and already he was needing to get away. "I'm not deceiving anyone. The person who is deceiving himself is standing right in front of me."

Eames arched an eyebrow. "Please, Arthur." His voice was soft. "Please, stop doing this to yourself. And to her. I care about Ariadne. You're going to end up hur-"

He stopped, and straightened himself. Footsteps were echoing up the hallway, causing Arthur to perspire. In seconds, the Architect was standing in the doorway.

"Hi," she said, brightly. Moving over to Arthur, she kissed him on the forehead, causing him to smile. "You left early!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Arthur said, hastily. "I didn't want to wake you, but I had things to finish up here." He touched her cheek. "Won't happen again."

She raised her eyebrows. "Like I believe that. I know how important this mark is to you."

Arthur nodded. "Well, yes, it is."

Turning the Architect began to head for the stairs. Arthur swallowed, spots of shame beginning to burn on his cheeks. Eames began to get up. Arthur frowned, and caught the other man's eye. "Not now."

"Arthur-"

"I said, not now." Sitting back down at his laptop, Arthur pulled up another file, studiously concentrating on his work.

"Then when-"

"Not now!" Arthur's voice was hoarse. He was beginning to feel the need to get away from Eames, and as quickly as possible. "I need to-"

Eames was at his side, and placing a hand on his wrist. The younger man stood up. "Don't," he whispered. He could feel his blood pulsing in his ears.

Eames shook his head. "Arthur, I-"

Suddenly, Cobb's voice broke into tension. "Thank God. You're both here."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"What is it?" Arthur asked. A feeling of foreboding was spreading through him. Cobb looked grave, exhausted. He opened his mouth again, but the Extractor spoke first.

"Miles." He looked at both men. "Sick. Very sick. He's had a heart attack." He rubbed his forehead. "I can't go on this job - I need to be with my family."

Arthur nodded. "I understand."

"You two are going to have to go alone."

Arthur blinked, suddenly convinced he'd misheard. "What?"

"Are you not listening?" Cobb's voice rose a slight notch, irritation pouring out. "I need to go and see Miles. Ariadne's coming with me. She offered to help take care of the kids."

Arthur suddenly realised that he was facing a situation that could lead to his ruin. "So, Eames and I-"

"Go to Mexico City as planned," Cobb interrupted. "Flight tickets, passports - all arranged. Just get their, find the mark, and perform it. Then come back. Understand?"

"Of course." Eames' soft voice shocked Arthur out of his self-absorption. "When do we leave?"

Cobb looked at them both. "This evening. Please."

Arthur nodded. "Of course." He looked at Eames. "You'll be ready, won't you?"

Eames shrugged. "I'm always ready."

Swallowing, Arthur nodded. "Good. I'll meet you at the airport."

* * *

"You sure you've got everything?"

Ariadne nodded, and smiled at him. "Yeah, everything. Cobb told me to pack enough for a couple of weeks. I think I've got enough. I can always buy more if needed."

"As long as you're sure." Arthur swallowed. Leaning down, he kissed her firmly on the lips. "I'll miss you."

Ariadne blinked, startled by his intensity. "Well, thank you." She looked at him, searchingly. "I-"

"You what?" Arthur asked, softly, his hand cupping the side of her face. "What is it?"

"I never thought you'd miss me," she said, almost casually. "I always thought you were contained, and, didn't really need...anyone."

Arthur smiled. "People change," he said, softly. "Trust me."

A car horn hooted outside. "I think that's your cab," he said, quietly. Nodding, she picked up her small case, and began to leave. Arthur stopped her. "Wait," he said softly.

Kissing her deeply, he felt a tremor of nervousness. _Don't leave me. Please. _

He blinked. Within seconds, she was gone.

* * *

"Well, its business class," Eames commented. He stretched out in the seat, and glanced across at Arthur, who was pretending to bury himself in paperwork. He smiled at him. "You work too hard."

Arthur looked over, irritably. "We have to get this completed, and if you recall, we were rushed out here. Where else am I expected to prepare?"

Eames shrugged "Suit yourself. Wouldn't hurt you to relax, that's all."

Arthur shook his head, and focused on the print outs in front of him. The letters swam before his eyes, becoming indecipherable. He stole a quick glance at the Forger. His eyes were closed, relaxed. Completely oblivious to anything.

Including Arthur.

"Hey, would you mind holding?" Before he could stop himself, he was trying to shove a sheaf of paper towards Eames. The other man opened one eye, faintly irritated.

"I do mind, actually." He closed his eyes again, and burrowed down in the seat. "You need to relax."

Arthur blinked. "I need you to hold this."

"And I said no. All right?"

Trembling slightly, Arthur withdrew his hand, not prepared to draw any more attention to themselves. As the attendant approached, offering water, he took a glass, focusing on small sips.

"Thank you, red wine would be lovely." He turned his head, looking at Eames. As he saw the other man accept the complimentary alcohol, he shook his head, convinced he saw the other man smirk at him.

* * *

Arthur sat on his hotel bed, feeling tired, and sluggish. Being on a plane for twelve hours had taken its toll, and he decided he needed a shower.

As he removed his suit jacket and tie, laying them on the bed, the thought of the flight made his irritation increase. Eames had been taunting him. Ignoring him. He'd flirted with the attendant, smiling at her, being overly complimentary about everything she'd brought him. He shook his head. Was he trying to make Arthur feel inadequate, insecure?

He blinked, staring at himself in the mirror. Ariadne. He'd not given her a thought since they'd started flying. Hurriedly, he reached for his phone, carefully checking for any messages.

He swallowed. A text had flashed up. _Hi, are you there? A x_

He clicked on the keypad, about to respond, when suddenly, there was a knock on the door. He laid the phone on the bed, and went to open it. "Yes?"

"Towels," a voice called out. He opened the door, revealing a pretty Mexican girl holding a pile of fresh linen. He smiled. "Gracias." Tipping her ten peso, he accepted the towels, and moved into the room, determined to text Ariadne back.

_I'm here. You ok? x_

He swallowed, wanting her to contact him quickly. It would remind him of her presence, make him realise that what happened on the plane was an aberration, something that should never have happened. He swallowed, and waited.

Then he blinked. No. He was an adult. He couldn't claim Eames was manipulating him. He'd tried to get his attention, tried to get him to notice him on the plane. He shuddered slightly, and grabbing a towel, headed for the shower. As he turned the water on, he stripped off his shirt, and trousers. Carefully, he laid them across the sink, and stepped in.

The water was hot, and the blast was powerful. As he stretched in the warm, steaming rain, he felt himself relax. There was nothing to worry about.

_I'm in love with Ariadne, she's in love with me, its not a problem. Eames is just...Eames. _

He began to turn the shower off, and reached for the towel, carefully swathing it around his hips. As he left the shower, and started rubbing himself dry, he heard the ping of his phone. Smiling, he walked back into the bedroom, and picked it up.

His eyes widened in shock.

_Meet me in my room. E. _

Furious, Arthur hit the delete button, and began to dress himself, pulling his clothing on with an uneeded savagery. He winced as a button pulled off in his hand from his shirt. He began knotting his tie, angrily.

As he was running a comb through his hair, there was a knock on the door. "One minute!" he shouted. Crossing the room, he wrenched open the door.

Eames was standing on the other side.

"I need to apologise," Eames began, confidently striding into the room, past Arthur. "For that message. I think the wine I had on the plane went to my head."

Arthur swallowed. "That's one place it went to."

"Look, Arthur, I don't want to upset you, or offend you...but, please, stop behaving like a teenager." Eames shook his head. "It doesn't become you. What happened, happened, and you've made a choice. Staying with Ariadne. Stop trying to test me or trick me."

Arthur folded his arms, and looked at the Forger. "I'm not trying to trick you. I just want you to keep your distance. But we're here, on a job, remember? You need to work with me."

"I know." Eames nodded. "Which is why we should go to dinner, so we can discuss it."

Arthur shook his head. "Not hungry."

"I've noticed." Eames raised an eyebrow. "You've lost weight. Stress taking away your appetite?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Thank you for your concern."

"Unless, Ariadne likes you this way." Eames shook his head. "At which I'd tell you not to be something for someone else...because you're perfect the way you are."

Arthur swallowed. Tension was hanging in the air between them, like fine rain. He shook his head, as his cellphone began to shrill. "I need to take this," he muttered. Eames nodded, and left.

Arthur picked up the phone - Ariadne. With a heavy heart, he let the call go to voicemail, stretched out on the bed, and closed his eyes.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed, and turned over. His throat felt dry, and his head ached. Wincing slightly, he turned his head to look at the clock by the bed.

5.30am.

His eyes bulged. _No, impossible! _Clearly he'd fallen asleep in his clothes - he noticed, with distaste, how wrinkled his shirt was, and, embarrassingly, showing some damp patches.

He swung his legs round, and hung his head. He then noticed the neon lit front of his mobile phone, blinking at him. He picked it up, and bit his lip.

Four missed calls. All from Ariadne. Guiltily, he scrolled down the list of times, noting the most recent was at half midnight. He rubbed his face. He'd clearly been fast asleep.

He then noticed something else on the side of the bed. A glass, with amber residue at the bottom. Picking it up, he sniffed it, the recoiled slightly. The scotch had helped as well.

Feeling disgusted with himself, he decided to get changed, and go for a run. As he pulled off the crumpled suit, exchanging it for shorts and a t- shirt, he glanced in the mirror. His eyes were darkly circled, and his skin was sallow. Swallowing, he began to head downstairs, for the hotel's running track.

The heat of the day was beginning. He noticed it as the sun fell through the trees, hitting his eyes. Arthur jogged round the circular running track, not bothering to make eye contact with any of the other runners.

_Eames, its not you I'm with. Never!_

His mind stubbornly persisted in repeating this. As he continued to circle the track, he began to feel more guilt over his treatment of Ariadne. She's tried calling him, and where had he been? Passed out on his bed, fully clothed, and hiding like a scared little boy.

He shook his head. The Forger could be dealt with later. His main priority was finding the Mark, and repairing his relationship.

After half an hour of laps, he decided to take a shower, and change.

As he went upstairs, he realised that someone was waiting for him in the corridor. He blinked. It was one of the hotel staff, who looked slightly embarrassed at catching Arthur in his running garb.

"Senor?" Her voice was crisp, and lilting. Arthur nodded. "Message for you at the desk. Gracias." Turning, the young woman began to walk away.

Arthur unfolded the piece of paper she'd handed him.

_You're not answering your phone. Call me. A._

Crumpling it in his fist, he walked into the room.

* * *

Eames sat at breakfast, staring into his cup of black coffee. A plate of cooling food was set to his elbow. He frowned. Arthur had simply...disappeared the previous night. He frowned, and began to spoon sugar into the hot black liquid. He stirred it quickly.

"Eames?"

He looked up. The Point Man, looking tired, and also slightly dishevelled, was standing next to the table. Eames held out a hand. "Have a seat."

Arthur nodded. "Thanks." Pulling back the chair, he slid in. Eames gestured to the waiter.

"Senor?"

"Coffee please, and..." he looked at Arthur. "To eat?"

Arthur blinked. "Oh. The fruit plate, please."

The waiter nodded, and hurried away. Eames shook his head. "You need to eat more."

"Why?" Arthur said defensively.

"Well, I could comment about how I don't like lying next to skeletons, but its more because I'm concerned about you," The Forger retorted. "What's Ariadne going to think if you come back looking like a waif?"

Arthur smiled, his first genuine one is several days. "She'd be pretty..." he swallowed. "She wouldn't be happy." He looked down at his hands. "She really wouldn't. She thinks I work too hard, don't take enough time to eat, and-"

"Well, I suggest you eat something," Eames said, as the waiter came back, and laid the plate of fruit in front of Arthur. "Although fruit isn't exactly fattening."

"It gives me energy," he muttered, picking up his fork to spear a piece of melon. "Besides, sure you're not doing this for your own benefit? Its not Ariadne you're thinking of, its you, and sorry, but I'm not going to be treated like a piece of meat!"

Eames blinked. Arthur's voice had risen slightly, and he picked up his coffee cup. "Its not meant like that."

"Well, back off," Arthur almost hissed. "If its not you, its her, ringing me all hours, leaving messages. I'm going to be smothered by both of you if this continues!"

He stopped. Eames raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, dear." His tone was gentle. "The real feelings starting to slip out?"

Arthur threw his fork down. "Enough." Turning, his eyes narrowed. Sitting at a table across from them was a young, good looking man with dark hair, alone. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, the reason for their being in Mexico City was very clear.

"Eames?"

"Yes?"

"The Mark." He nodded.

"Fine." Eames looked at him. "But this isn't going to make everything else disappear, Arthur. Trust me."

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"What do you know about the Mark?" Eames whispered. Arthur smiled at him. "Pretty much...everything." He took a sip of water. "French-Canadian, speaks three languages. Made a fortune in computer chips after graduating from the University of Toronto. Has houses in Los Angeles, and Seattle."

Eames raised an eyebrow. "Really? Not Vancouver?"

Arthur ignored him. "Well. He's alone. Perfect."

Eames turned his head, watching as the good looking man was attended to by a waiter. After placing an order, Arthur got up.

"What are you doing?" Eames almost hissed. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Watch," he informed him.

Casually, he sauntered over to the mark. "Simon?" he asked, politely, but with a touch of familiarity. "Remember me? We met at the conference in New York?"

The mark looked up, frowning slightly. "I don't..." his face clouded over slightly. "I'm sorry." His tone was apologetic. "I don't remember you."

Arthur shrugged, allowing himself to look slightly crestfallen. "Oh, well. Can't be helped."

He turned, prepared to head back to the table. As he walked away, the mark spoke. "Wait a minute."

Arthur turned back. "Yes?"

"You do look familiar..." Arthur paused, waiting for the response. "Very familiar. Care to join me?"

Arthur smiled. "Why not?"

Eames, his face pulled in a scowl, watched them.

* * *

Arthur swallowed, enjoying the other man's attention. He was aware that Eames was watching them. It was too easy, he decided, to play with the older man's feelings.

He stopped, blinking. _What am I doing? _He looked at the mark, suddenly embarrassed.

"I need to make a phone call," he said, getting up. The other man blinked. "Oh, well. It was nice to meet you."

Arthur nodded, the bland statement stinging slightly. He got up, and wandered back to the table where Eames was sitting.

"Must have decided you weren't his type," the Forger said, casually, looking at Arthur. "Sit down."

Arthur did, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Eames smiled at him. "Shall we order?"

Arthur scowled. "Eames, its-"

"Well after 7. And I'm hungry. Come on."

Arthur felt himself relenting slightly. "You're always hungry," he said, smiling. The Forger scowled slightly. "Can't help it. I burn a lot of calories."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Eames retorted, scanning the menu. Ignoring Arthur's blush, he signalled to the waiter. The man hurried over. "Sir?"

"Steak please, twice," Eames stated, promptly. "And a bottle of red wine."

"Eames!" Arthur looked at him. "That's a pretty heavy meal, and-"

"You need some meat on your bones," the older man said, interrupting him. "Really." He looked at the Point Man. "I swear you weren't as thin as you are when we first started working together."

"Ariadne always says the same thing." He rubbed his chin, and leaned over. "I'm too thin." He sighed.

"So, do something about it!"

Arthur blinked. "High metabolism." He shrugged. Eames shook his head. "No," he said, gently. "Its something else. Something that bothers you, so you can't eat and-"

"Stop it," Arthur said, curtly. "Or I'll leave the table."

Eames shook his head. "Fine, run away. But you can't keep on running away. Its only going to hurt you."

Arthur pushed his chair back, and got up. "Think what you like." Turning, he began to walk away. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Please sit down," Eames said, calmly, "and I promise not to cause a scene."

"You're drawing attention to us."

"I don't care. You're with me, and that's what matters. Sit down."

Arthur swallowed, unsure of how to deal with this surprisingly forceful Eames. He turned and faced him.

"Good," Eames said, nodding. He smiled. "So, shall we?"

All** reviews and readers appreciated, thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"More wine?"

Arthur swallowed, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He'd tried to be as civil as possible during the meal, despite endless provocation - Eames had flattered his looks, praised his work, commenting how long it had been since he'd had a meal with a gorgeous young man- but Arthur still felt it was a charade. Taunting him. Trying to convince him to open up to feelings he would not confess.

"I'm fine," he answered, "the words coming out slightly more curtly than he'd intended. "I don't need more wine."

"You barely touched your steak."

Arthur swallowed. "I'm just not very hungry."

Eames narrowed his eyes. "Its easy to worry about you, Arthur. Very easy. Problem is, you're too selfish to realise it."

The Point Man reached for his wine glass. "You're so perceptive."

"Of course," Eames said, smirking. "I just feel sorry for Ariadne. Being with you. Not wanting to accept or realise what's right in front of her."

Arthur glared at him. "Leave her out of it. She's not here, remember?"

"No. She isn't."

Arthur blinked. The wine was making him feel light headed. Pushing back his chair, he began to get up. "Excuse me."

"You're a charmless dinner partner." Eames shrugged. "But its all right. I need a cigarette."

Arthur began to walk away from the table, trying to keep his raging emotions under control. As he entered the elevator, he felt his phone begin to vibrate. Biting his lip, he pulled it out.

Ariadne.

Swallowing, he waited until he'd reached the floor of his room, then walked over to the door. Unlocking the door with his swipe card, he then entered, and decided to go to the balcony for privacy.

The night was darkening. He noted the stains of indigo against the turquoise sky, and settled himself in one of the chairs. Pulling his phone out, he began to return the call.

After a few seconds, she answered. "Hello?"

"Hey," he replied, softly. "How are you?"

"Arthur! I wondered...why you didn't answer the first time." Her voice sounded slightly strained, and Arthur bit his lip. He swallowed, trying to consider a response that wouldn't appear hurtful.

"I'm sorry. I was at dinner."

"Oh."

He flushed, and began to feel guilty. The reproach in her voice was perceptible enough to make him wince. "I'm sorry, I was at dinner with Eames - we were trying to meet the Mark."

"Of course."

He exhaled slowly. The conversation was going nowhere. "Ari, I'm sorry, ok?"

"Arthur, I'm not asking you to be sorry," she replied, her tone puzzled. "Its just...I just wanted to call you, hear your voice. Is that ok?"

"Of course." He realised how defensive he sounded, and tried to keep it out of his voice.

"I just hope you're taking care of yourself," she said, not waiting for him to continue with his sentence. "You know what you're like when you're working on a job."

Arthur ground his teeth slightly. "Trust me. Please."

"I do! she protested. "I-"

"How's Miles?" he interrupted, desperate to switch the focus of the conversation. "And the kids?"

"As well as can be expected," she replied. "He's still in hospital."

"OK, listen, now you take care, and I'll call soon, ok?"

"Arthur-"

"Bye!"

As he clicked off, he felt a rush of self loathing. _She didn't deserve that._

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. He felt a rush of irritation. "Eames, leave it!" he shouted.

There was a pause.

"Well, I'm sorry, I'll -"

His eyes widening, Arthur moved forward and pulled the door open. The mark stood on the other side, smiling.

"Hi," he said, gently. "May I come in?"

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	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the hiatus on this fic - life interrupted a little. **

Arthur blinked, taken aback. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, I'm sorry." The other man laughed, nervously polite. "I saw you, and you talked to me, and one thing..." he blushed slightly. "I don't normally do this."

"Do what?"

"Invite myself up to men's rooms." He took a step forward, his light blue eyes flashing in the fading sunlight. "But...I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier."

"Forget it," Arthur said, feeling flustered. "Its not a problem-"

"Yes, it is," the mark insisted. Before Arthur could move, he'd pulled him forward, into a kiss. Arthur blinked as their lips met, suddenly feeling light hearted. Swallowing, he took a step back.

"Sorry," the mark said. But his eyes undercut his tone. Sparkling and intense, fixing Arthur with an almost predatory stare, he clearly did not regret his actions. His hands began to move to Arthur's shirt, gently tugging at the buttons.

The Point Man didn't even try to resist. He closed his eyes, watching as the skillful, gentle fingers began to shrug him out of his jacket. Carefully, almost ceremonially, he laid it on the bed. The tie followed, Arthur watching as the violet silk was laid down next to the jacket, not even attempting to stop him.

The mark paused, his hands on the shirt buttons. "Do you want me to continue?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes." His voice was husky, and he swallowed. "Please."

The mark smiled, and began to pluck at the buttons. Arthur felt his muscles tense as his upper torso was revealed. The mark smiled as he took note of Arthur's lightly muscled upper body.

"Nice," he said, casually, before discarding the shirt. As if unable to control himself any longer, he began to wind his arms round Arthur, kissing at his neck.

Arthur closed his eyes. Being in this man's arms - away from Eames, Ariadne - seemed right. He allowed himself to fall onto the bed.

"Is the door locked?" The mark murmured, gently running his fingers through Arthur's hair. "Because I don't want anyone disturbing us."

"It doesn't matter if they do," Arthur replied, his voice low. "I don't care about anything right now. Except being here, with you."

"You don't even know me."

"Isn't that part of the fun?" Arthur challenged. The mark, who had shed his own shirt, chuckled throatily.

"It is." He ran his fingers down Arthur's chest. "Its part of the fun, in all ways." He smiled. "Do you even know my name?"

"I don't even care what your name is," Arthur responded. "I don't."

"Good. Because let's not waste time." Without bothering to wait for a response, he pulled back the bed covers. Arthur, blinking in shock, looked at the mark.

"You're going to-"

"Listen," the mark interrupted. "I'm used to not wasting time. I'm used to just getting what I want. And that includes the latest deals, a good stock market rating, and you."

Arthur blinked. The assertiveness of this man was wildly attractive. Without bothering to re-consider, he pulled him close.

* * *

He smiled, and turned over. The mark was asleep, his black hair framing his pale face. Arthur leaned over. Would it be inappropriate to kiss him on the shoulder?

He gently pecked the other man's smooth, bare shoulder. He looked at them, critically. They were narrow, reflecting the mark's slim frame. He leaned back. Eames wouldn't have shoulders like that, he thought, slightly critically. They were more like Ariadne's.

He sat bolt upright. Ariadne, Eames, this man. Feeling slightly sick, he pushed back the covers, and began to walk towards the bathroom. His tongue felt coated and sticky - a result of the wine they'd drunk from the mini bar. He walked to the bathroom, and turned on the faucet. Bowing down, he began to splash water on his face.

He glanced at his wrist watch. Not even 2am. Swallowing, he walked back to the bedroom.

The mark was turning over, murmuring. Leaning over, Arthur smiled, almost tenderly. Suddenly, he heard a low buzzing. Frowning, he realised it was his cellphone.

Walking over to his discarded jacket, he snatched up the device. "Yes?"

"Arthur?"

He felt his blood turn to ice. "Ariadne. Hi."

"I'll be seeing you soon."

"What?"

"Seeing you soon. Cobb decided you guys needed an architect with you. I'm on the next plane out."

Arthur, frozen with shock, swallowed. "Ari-"

"I'm about to board. See you soon!"

Arthur, feeling as though a weight was crushing his chest, sank down on the bed.

**Please review - it is appreciated!** **Thank you for reading this fic!**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed as he laid down on the bed, his thoughts whirling. Ariadne coming to visit him...the Mark...suddenly, everything felt as though it were closing in on him. Getting up, he headed to the bathroom, determined to splash cold water on his face in an effort to cool his blood.

He turned the tap on, trying to calm his breathing. Splashing his face, he walked back into the bedroom, sinking onto the bed. Closing his eyes, he tried to block everything out.

Ariadne. Flying over to see him. Did they really need an Architect? Had Cobb really sent her...or was she simply coming due to paranoia? With a stab of guilt, he realised he hadn't called her, even texted her, for a couple of days. He'd left as her boyfriend. Now, he realised with a sense of shock, he saw her as an inconvenience.

The mark. He'd come into his room, seduced him...but he'd wanted to be seduced, wanted that slim frame in his bed. He shuddered. Suddenly, disgusted with himself, he looked again at the mark. He was lying with his face buried in the pillow, clearly fast asleep.

Arthur swallowed, and gently touched his shoulder. "Hey."

The mark stirred, sleepily. "Hmmm?"

"Hey," Arthur said, more insistently. "I think you need to-"

The mark rolled over, and looked at him. "Need to what?" he murmured, reaching out, gently stroking the side of Arthur's face. "If you need attention-"

Arthur blinked, frozen, as the mark began kissing his chest, moving down his stomach and towards his groin. Shocked, but also feeling a rush of lust, he lay still, waiting.

"Oh, you're beautiful," he whispered, moving down Arthur. "Very beautiful."

The younger man shivered slightly under his touch. "Oh," he murmured. The mark moved further down.

Arthur closed his eyes, a memory flicking across his mind's eye - a memory of how after three dates, he'd taken Ariadne back to his apartment. They'd both been drinking, and as they settled on the couch, he'd leaned over, kissing her.

She'd been taken aback. But then, her confidence had begun to grow, and she'd moved onto his lap. As she gently covered his face with kisses, her hands had moved towards his fly. Suddenly, she'd been opening it, exposing him to the cool evening breeze, and begun to slide down towards his -

"No!" Arthur suddenly shouted. The mark looked up, anger clouding his handsome features.

"What is it?" he snapped, looking crushed.

"No, I'm sorry." Arthur shook his head, feeling a rush of guilt and shame. "I can't do this, I'm-"

"You can't do this?" The mark was astonished. "I just- we just-"

"I know!" Arthur pushed back the covers, getting out of bed. "Its just I-"

"Save it." Red with anger the mark was alrady scrabbling round for his clothes. "Forget it. Thanks. Bye." As he left, hastily throwing his clothes on, he turned to Arthur. "Oh, can I give you a tip?"

"What?" Arthur asked, feeling slightly stunned.

"I actually have a boyfriend. I do hope you haven't given me something he could catch."

Stunned, Arthur watched as the man stormed out angrily, before sinking back down onto the bed. He looked at the clock. 4am.

Sighing, he closed his eyes.

* * *

"Arthur?"

He blinked, and turning over, looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was after 11am. With a sense of shock, he realised he must have fallen asleep more easily than he'd expected. Swallowing, he began to sit up.

"Arthur?"

He blinked, and getting up, moved towards the door. Yawning, he began to turn the handle, not caring that his hair was mussed, and skin sleep creased.

As he opened the door, Ariadne entered. "Arthur!" she gasped, shocked. "You're still in bed?"

"I-" he froze, feeling stunned. "I - well - we were working late, and-"

His words were cut off as she pulled him close, kissing him firmly on the mouth. He responded by wrapping his arms around her, letting her pull him close. He cuddled her, seeking comfort.

Suddenly, he broke away. "Sorry," he mumbled. She looked at him, visibly startled. "Arthur, what is it?"

"Sorry, I need to take a shower." Leaving her shocked, he grabbed his robe, and headed for the bathroom.

**All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you! **


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Ariadne sat down on the edge of the bed feeling bewildered. Arthur had almost brushed her off, as though she did not matter. Swallowing, she carefully tucked her leg under her, and looked down at her hands.

Something caught her eye. Peering down, she blinked. A pair of boxer shorts were almost tossed under the bed, slightly obscured by the metal bed frame. She began to pick them up, her eyes widening.

They were silk. Clearly very expensive. And as she looked more closely, she realised they were not Arthur's size.

Shocked, she dropped them back onto the carpet, kicking them under the bed. Silently biting a fingernail, she listened to the rush of water in the bathroom. Putting her hand in her pocket, she felt her totem, realising, with a sinking heart, she was awake.

* * *

Arthur sluiced himself in the shower, letting the water soak him. He blinked, grimacing as the shampoo suds dripped into his face, stinging his eyes. Wiping the excess from his skin, he began to turn off the shower, reaching for a towel.**  
**

Wrapping it round his hips, he walked back into the bedroom. Ariadne was sitting on the bed, biting her lip. She looked at him when he appeared, and a rush of guilt and tenderness flooded through his body. She looked so young, so vulnerable. Suddenly, he was disgusted with himself, and the memories of the previous night.

Swallowing, he sat down beside her. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, quietly.

He reached out, and began to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hey yourself." He blinked - was he really being so trite, so pathetic?

Taking her arm, he began to pull her towards him. Her dry clothing rustled against his damp skin, and she eagerly responded to his kisses. Reaching out, he began to run his hands up and down her back, feeling her body through the fabric.

"I missed you," she breathed, as he began to unbutton her blouse.

"Missed you," he whispered.

Their lips met, and she felt her fears suddenly start to melt away.

* * *

Arthur turned over, watching her. He frowned - it was nearly early evening, and he'd effectively spent the day in bed. He sighed, turning over, enjoying the warmth of her body.

He frowned as he looked at her. She was paler than he remembered, and thinner. Had she been pining for him, waiting? He shook his head, annoyed with himself for being so egotistical. He'd frequently stressed that they should enjoy their own lives, and not spend their time wishing to always be with the other. Extraction work, due to its danger and unpredictability, meant relationships could be tragically, and brutally, short.

He laid down again, letting the weight of the duvet rest on his chest. Ariadne turned over, murmuring. Satisfied, he leaned over, and kissed her on the forehead. Getting up, he began to reach for his robe, when there was a soft knock on the door.

Swallowing, he opened it. "Eames."

The Forger smiled, mockingly, then leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. "Does she do this as well as me?" he leaned back, tilting his head, and winking. "See you both at dinner."

Stunned, Arthur sagged against the doorway, and watched him go.

**Please review - it is appreciated!**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Arthur?"

He blinked, feeling stunned. Ariadne was stirring and starting to sit up. "Arthur what is it?"

He frowned. Was she always so needy, so clingy? He scowled and shook his head. "It was only Eames." He felt a slight sting of satisfaction at his casual dismissal of the Forger. He looked at her. "Are you getting up yet?"

"Yes." She bit her lip, clearly confused. "Are you allright?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" the words came out sharply - more sharply than he'd intended. Suddenly, she glared at him.

"Look, Arthur, I can see you're upset by me turning up. But don't behave like this, ok?" startled, he watched as she pushed back the covers and began to get up. "I don't need this."

He watched, feeling shame wash over him. He had been rude, he realised. "I'm sorry," he said, approaching her. "Really, Ariadne, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

She looked at him, as though slightly mollified. "OK."

"Listen, is it ok if Eames joins us at dinner?" he asked hesitantly, as though he was expecting a refusal. "But he and I- well, we need to discuss this case, and you being here makes it easier."

"OK." She nodded, as though dutifully. "Sounds fine."

He watched as she began to gather her clothes, opening her suitcase. He swallowed. "You've um, lost some weight."

She looked at him. "Do you think?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "How come?"

"Well, long days, long nights working," she shrugged. "Often I've not been getting back until really late. And then its too much hassle to cook."

He felt a flash of irritation. "You need to take better care of yourself." He shook his head. "We can't have you passing out on a job."

She looked at him, stung by his words and his tone. "Arthur. Stop it." She looked at him. "You're not looking so great yourself. I swear I could feel your ribs."

He blinked. Her tone was one of near hostility. "Well, thanks for pointing that out," he snapped. "Are we going to stand here arguing all night or are you going to get ready?"

"What about you?" she snapped back. "You're not even bothering to get changed!"

He shook his head. How were things spiralling so quickly? He swallowed, taking a step forward. "Ari, this - this is ridiculous. Can we just stop, draw a line under it?"

She nodded. "If you want to." Her eyes flashed at him. "But its always what you want, isn't it, Arthur?"

"What?" he was stunned. "Meaning?"

"Forget it." She turned her back to him, rifling through her clothes. Annoyed, he walked over. "No, please explain that comment."

"Arthur, forget it, it didn't-"

"I said, explain what you mean!" he practically snarled the words, and grabbed her arm. She gasped - the strength of his fingers was stronger than expected. "Arthur, let go of me!"

Shocked, he looked at his hand. As he released her arm, he gulped - his fingers had left dark red streaks, clearly a sign that he'd been pressing too hard. "Oh, God, Ari, I'm sorry!"

She looked at him, tears in her eyes. "Arthur, I don't know what's happened to you. Are you going to tell me?"

He swallowed, and looked down at her face. He felt his heart twist.

"Ari." He opened his mouth. "I think I'm-"

"Yes?" she asked, gently.

"I think I'm just tired." He felt his heart plummet. "Its no excuse though."

She looked at him. "I think there's more to it." He stood mute, deeply ashamed of his betrayal. _What can I say? That I've had sex with the mark? That when you're in my bed, I think about Eames? _

__"Let's go to dinner," he said, gently. "Shall we talk later?"

She nodded, looking slightly mollified. "Ok."

He bent down, and kissed her. As he did so, a wave of nausea at his own cowardice passed through him.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed as he and Ariadne walked downstairs. He knew that Eames would be sitting there, waiting. Watching them both intently. Scrutinising their faces. As a defence, he pushed his fingers into Ariadne's hand, and wrapped them around hers.

She looked at him, almost surprised. "What are you-"

He looked at her, his heart softening. The look of confusion on her face was cutting him to the quick. Feelings of disgust and shame were mingling, becoming interchangeable. He pulled her close, and kissed the top of her head. "Just glad you're here," he said, meaning it.

She nodded, but looked subdued. Swallowing, they entered the elevator. As the metal doors clanged shut, he turned to her.

"Ari..." leaning over, he began to kiss her neck, moving further down her body. She squeaked slightly in protest, then stopped as Arthur's fingers grew more probing and more insistent. He hooked them into her demure blouse, moving swiftly towards her breast, determined to touch, to feel-

The doors clanged open, and he started, embarrassed. The lobby, thankfully, was empty, but Ariadne's blouse was half open, and her cheeks were scarlet. He swallowed, turning his head away as she discreetly buttoned up the smooth, creamy material. As they stepped out together, he pulled his waistcoat down, trying to compose his features.

Entering the elegant dining room, he glanced around. There was no sign of the mark, but Eames was sitting at a table for three. With a sinking heart, Arthur noticed that the wine bottle on the table was uncorked, and already a third empty.

Arthur approached the Forger, cautiously. "Eames."

"Arthur!" the Forger stood up, his eyes gleaming as he swept them over both he and Ariadne. "Ariadne! How good to see you!" He picked up her hand, and kissed it.

The Point Man struggled to contain a wave of anger. He knew that Eames meant nothing by the gesture. It was purely for show. Purely to show Arthur that he could be easily pushed out of the picture. He pulled his chair out and sat down, deciding to say nothing. Ariadne followed him.

"So." Eames swept his eyes over the Architect. "You look lovely."

She blushed. "Thank you."

Arthur glared at him. He knew Eames was not the slightest bit interested in Ariadne sexually. But he also knew that the Forger's prediliction for humiliation would cause him to use her.

"So," Eames began conversationally. "Cobb doesn't trust us alone out here?" He reached for the wine bottle, and shook it. "Anyone want a glass?"

"I'll have water," Arthur said, quietly. Eames shook his head. "Oh, Artie. So uptight. Relax. Your girlfriend's here!" Before Arthur could protest, he'd poured the dark red liquid into his wine glass. Arthur blanched; the wine sat there, looking as viscous and as unappealing as blood. He grabbed it, and took a sip.

Ariadne was blushing. Furiously, he noticed that Eames was leaning over to her, whispering in her ear. He put the glass down, and wished he could simply kick the other man under the table.

Suddenly, a waiter appeared. "Menus?"

"Why thank you," Eames said, ingratiatingly. As he handed one to Arthur, he winked at Ariadne. "He needs to order something substantial, don't you think?" He shook his head. "Never eats properly when he's on a job."

Ariadne bit her lip, and then, almost reluctantly, agreed. "You do look as though you've lost weight," she said, almost timidly. "You let yourself get too stressed."

"Oh, no, its not that!" Eames said, jovially. "He's been...shagging every night." Ariadne looked at Eames, her mouth dropping open. "Oh, you know Arthur." Eames winked at her. "Has a taste for bimbos, really."

Arthur felt his blood beginning to freeze. Ariadne began to laugh, clearly indicating she recognised it was a joke, albeit a tasteless one. He took another sip of wine.

Suddenly, the waiter re-appeared. "Are you ready to order?"

"Yes, please." Eames said, carelessly. "Lobster." He turned to Ariadne. "How about you?"

"Oh, salmon," she said, quickly. "Please."

The Waiter nodded. "Sir?" he asked, turning to Arthur. The Point Man blinked. His stomach was churning, and the thought of the rich, heavy dishes the others had ordered made him feel nauseous. "Salad," he almost whispered. "A green salad, please."

Ariadne looked at him, almost horrified. "You can't live on that!"

"I'm not hungry," he muttered. He looked down at his place mat, and fiddled with his cutlery. The waiter bowed, and walked away.

"Arthur." Ariadne spoke again. "You should eat something decent, you-"

"What are you, my mother?" he snapped, turning towards her. "Stop it!" He shook his head, his fury surging. "No-one asked you to come out here, ok? If you're here, just shut up and keep your opinions to yourself!"

Ariadne looked at him, too stunned to respond. Eames leaned across the table, his eyes narrowed. When he spoke, his voice was ice cold.

"Leave the table."

Arthur got up, his breathing rapid and shallow. As he began to leave, he realised dimly that Eames was pulling Ariadne close to him. "Its all right," he heard him saying. "Its all right."

Arthur headed to the men's room. Locking himself into a cubicle, he sagged against the wall.

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you! **


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur leaned against the wall, sweat prickling across his back. He had embarrassed himself, let himself down. Ariadne and Eames were both sitting with him, both vying for his affection, his attention. He rubbed his face. He was pathetic.

He had them both. And he deserved neither.

Swallowing, he straightened his jacket, determined to go outside, and face them both. Suddenly, the door to the men's room swung open, and in walked Eames. Going straight to Arthur, he pulled his head down, and kissed him hard, on the lips.

Arthur shivered. Before he could stop himself, he wound his arms around Eames, pulling him close. Suddenly, Eames lifted his head, and pushed him away.

"You're a coward," he said, his voice biting with contempt. "Slut." Turning, he walked away from the shaken Arthur.

Going to the sink, Arthur splashed his face, and straightened himself. He walked back out to the table, only to realise that they had both disappeared.

Money had been left. Swallowing, Arthur hurried back to the room.

As he opened it, he saw Ariadne. She was sitting on the bed. She looked at him, her eyes red rimmed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" he asked, guardedly.

"That you're in love with Eames."

"Ari-"

"Its obvious," she said, her voice broken. "Its obvious that you have feelings for him." Her voice caught, and she struggled to catch her breath. She rubbed her face.

"You lied to me."

The words hit Arthur like a slap. He nodded, and sat down next to her. Despite the looming emotional crash that was heading towards him, he knew he had no choice but to be honest with her.

"I did."

"Why?"

"I just..." he swallowed. "I got caught up in it. One minute, I'm saying one thing to you - the next, I'm saying it to Eames."

"Were you with him when you were with me?"

"No," he faltered, tears filling his eyes. "I was not. Ari, I've never slept with him. Please, believe me on that. I have never slept with Eames."

"But you wanted to." She looked at him, her face white, but her eyes were clear. "Did you ever think about him - when you were with me?"

Arthur swallowed. The question stung, but he knew he had to be honest with her. "Yes."

"And do you want him? Right now?"

Arthur felt his face and composure begin to crumble. As she looked at him, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, tell her everything would be all right. But he couldn't. That it was over.

"Yes," he whispered.

"And were you ever going to tell me?"

"I...I don't know."

She shook her head. "Coward." She whispered. Getting up, she began to gather her things. "I think I'll check into another room."

"Ari -"

"No." She grabbed her bag, and began to leave, looking dazed. Arthur got up and followed her. "Ari-"

"Yes?"

"Please. Don't think I do not care about you."

She nodded. "I know. I just don't think you care about yourself. If you did, you would admit to this." Swallowing, she began to leave, closing the door.

Stunned, Arthur watched her leave. Turning back to the bed, he sank down, and sobbed.

**Thank you for reading - please leave a review, it is appreciated!**


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur lay back on the bed, his eyes sore. He didn't know how long he'd been lying there - an hour? Two? But one thing he could be certain of.

Ariadne had gone.

And he had no idea where.

Swallowing down a huge lump in his throat, he began to get up. He rubbed his face, and went into the bathroom.

His face was pasty white, and his eyes were red rimmed. He bit his lip, and wiped his hand over his face. He looked awful, but he felt worse. Inside, he felt a huge, black gaping hole. He'd hurt the one person he'd really cared about.

And he would never forgive himself for that.

Turning on the faucet, he splashed ice cold water on his face, making himself gasp. He toweled his face off, then walked back into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed, trying to work out what he should do.

Leave? Stay?

He blinked. Suddenly, his cell phone began to ring. Puzzled, he picked it up, hoping it was Ariadne. That they could talk things through. With a sinking heart, he recognised the caller id as Cobb's.

Swallowing, he slid his finger across the glossy, icy surface, and allowed the connection to come through. "Hello?"

"What the hell are you playing at?"

Arthur blinked. Cobb's voice was glacial. It was as though he were trying to push back barriers of emotion, trying to keep them contained. "Dom?"

"Answer the question. I've just spoken to Ariadne. She was in tears. Because, apparently, all the time you've been spending with her, you would prefer to be with Eames. Correct?"

"Cobb, I-"

"Just don't." Cobb's voice was like ice. "Come back when you've decided what you're going to do. And do not contact Ariadne, under any circumstances."

The line went dead. Stunned, Arthur looked at the electronic device, and dropped it on the bed as though it were burning his hand. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Getting up, he trudged to it, and blinked. Eames was standing in the doorway.

"Finally alone?"

"Eames, I-" Arthur blinked. "This isn't a good idea."

"Don't start acting all innocent and coy." Eames shook his head. "You've been dying for this ever since we arrived." Putting his hands on Arthur's shoulders, he began to push him away from the door, shutting it firmly.

Arthur looked at him. "Yes. You're right." Lifting his face up, he pulled Eames' head down, letting their lips meet in a long kiss. As he pushed Eames towards the bed, he felt a heightened sense of power - enough to banish lingering thoughts of Ariadne from his mind.

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great!**


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"We...shouldn't be doing this."

Eames paused, drawing his mouth away from Arthur's neck. "I'm sorry?"

"We..." Arthur's mind raced, desperately. "Its just-"

"A bit too late now," Eames whispered, teasingly. "A bit too late."

"She just left."

"She never should have come." Eames pulled back slightly, and shook his head. "Its...unfortunate, she had to find out this way."

Arthur nodded. "She did."

"But still..." Eames pulled him down onto the bed, and began to tug at his shirt. As he carefully undid the buttons, he lowered his head, kissing Arthur's abdomen. He felt his muscles tense, then relax, as Eames worked his way up to his neck, pressing his face into it.

Arthur's heart raced. He closed his eyes. The feeling of pleasure he was experiencing was outweighing any guilt. This was where he needed to be, should be. Eames began to tug at his trousers, pulling them down his hips. Arthur closed his eyes, assuming passivity. As the cool air wrapped around his legs, he swung them up, locking them around the Forger's waist. The older man grinned, and began to place his hands on Arthur's chest.

"Ooh, you want to play?"

Arthur bit back a satisfied smirk as Eames reached down, kissing his chest. After a short while, the two men slipped in between the sheets, Arthur no longer caring that a few short hours before, he'd been lying there with Ariadne.

"You know," Eames murmured, tracing his collarbone, "there's a special name for a man like you."

"Talented?" Arthur asked, smiling.

Eames shook his head. "No, I was thinking more...whore."

Arthur blinked, astonished. Eames saw the look that crossed his face, and smiled. "Only joking."

Arthur nestled down in the other man's arms. Their intense, passionate intimacy was beginning to fade, and he felt a delicious afterglow. Eames gently tickled his back.

"Why her?"

Arthur blinked. "Who?"

"You know. Her." He pulled his head up, and realised there was a look in Eames' face. One of intense longing. He wanted to know. For Arthur to explain. "Ariadne."

Arthur flopped back on the bed, and sighed. "I liked her."

"Really?"

"Yes." Arthur turned his head and nodded. "Yes, and I was attracted to her." He looked at Eames. "I'm not going to lie to you."

Eames swallowed. "I see."

"Look!" Arthur suddenly felt a rush of anger. "I'm bi. I like men, I like women. Ariadne was my type, and so are you."

"I see."

"Yes!"

"But...who would you rather be with?" The words were delivered as a challenge. "Who would you prefer to be with - her or me?"

Arthur looked at him. Suddenly, he realised that to say yes to the Forger would mean he owned him.

And then he realised that was what he wanted.

"You," he said, slightly shakily.

Eames, smiling in triumph, leaned down and kissed him.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


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